The Turkey Crisis
by SeraSearaSpin
Summary: The Thanksgiving feast was almost perfect. But suddenly, America realized they didn't have a turkey.


**So I had a random idea and just sat down and typed this.**

**Happy Thanksgiving! :D **

**Review :3**

* * *

It was around the time for Thanksgiving.

America loved Thanksgiving. He'd been there for the original, of course, and there were several variations from it in today's culture, but those were okay. He loved the feeling, the cut-out turkey decorations everywhere, and most of all, the food.

Cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes and sweet potato pie and apple pie and green beans and all those fabulous things, and last but not least, the turkey. The fabulous, wonderful turkey, stuffed with whatever the stuffing was made of, and drenched with gravy.

He snapped out of his dream when Lithuania poked his head out from the kitchen. The brunette had come over to help him with the cooking (or, really, to prevent the American from 'sampling' everything). "The potatoes are done," he reported, "and the apple pie is cooling nicely. The cranberry sauce is in the refrigerator, and all we need now is a turkey."

"I _know_," said the American, pulling his hair in agitation. "But all the stores nearby were out of turkey!"

"We still need turkey, though..."

America's eyes lit up. "You're right, we _do_ need Turkey...I'll get him right now!"

"Uh...America?"

By the time the words left his mouth, the blond was already out the door.

Lithuania shook his head and went back to the kitchen.

* * *

It only took a few minutes for the American to call down his private jet, hop in, and program the destination. Smiling, he sat back in his comfy seat and decided now would be a good time to take a nap.

* * *

Turkey was innocently lounging in a sauna, enjoying the warmth, when suddenly there was a streak in the sky and huge dust cloud puffed up from behind him. His first thought was, _What are the stupid aliens doing now?_

Sighing, he climbed out and wrapped a towel around his waist before going to investigate. As he approached the dust cloud, he felt a tingle of apprehension. _If it's those Pictonians again, I don't exactly want to be turned into a great white blob..._

A hatch opened within the dust cloud, spilling white light onto his suspicious face. "Hello?" he called warily, ready for anything.

Suddenly, a certain American bounded out, nearly bowling him over. "Hey, Turkey, my man! What are you doing on this fine Thanksgiving day?"

Turkey dusted himself off and pulled the towel tighter. "I was having a nice soak in a sauna until you showed up. And I don't celebrate your holidays, remember?"

America was not fazed by Turkey's cool response. "I need something from you real quick."

Turkey raised an eyebrow, invisible behind the mask. "What's that?"

"I need you-"

Turkey started backing away. "Whoa there America, I'm not into that sort of thing-"

"-for Thanksgiving," America finished.

"For what now?"

"I need a turkey for it, and there's no turkeys near me."

Turkey was perplexed by this statement. "That's because you're on the other side of the world, America..."

"But you're Turkey, so I thought-"

"I'm not about to be sacrificed in some weird American ritual!" Turkey bellowed.

America looked at him oddly. "I'm not about to sacrifice you," he said. "I just need a bird."

"I'm not a bird," said Turkey flatly.

"Well _anyone_ could see that!" America laughed. "I need you to dress up as akey just for a little bit."

"I'm already Turkey." The masked nation was starting to wonder about the blond's sanity.

America groaned. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Then suddenly, he had an epiphany.

"Fine, fine, wait here a second." America dashed into his plane and took off, showering Turkey with dust.

Turkey sighed, waited for a few seconds, and then started walking back to the sauna when the plane landed again. "What is it now?" he called irritably without looking behind him.

"Put your hands up!" screeched the American, running out of the plane with a gun on his shoulder.

Turkey's eyebrows furrowed. Was this some strange declaration of war? And aside from that, he was holding his towel up with his hands...

"What the hell are you doing?" Turkey shouted over to him. "I haven't done anything!"

Then America walked up to him and poked him with a tranquilizer dart.

* * *

Turkey woke up with a headache. It was dark, and kind of hot and stuffy. And he itched. Then he remembered what America had been babbling about, and tried to sit up.

But no, that failed. Apparently he was tied down to something. "WHAT THE HELL, AMERICA!" he hollered, testing the ropes. "LET ME OUT!"

* * *

America was back at his house in about an hour. "Did you find a turkey?" said Lithuania, absently stirring the gravy.

"You bet! I got a nice big one, too!"

"Bring it in. The gravy is getting cold."

America ran out to his plane, where Turkey was tied up in the closet screaming expletives at him. Without listening, the American nation dragged him inside. Lithuania, of course, had heard all the screaming, and had run out of the kitchen, sure that someone was getting horribly murdered.

"What- Why is Turkey lying on the floor covered in feathers? America, what did you do?!"

"HE KIDNAPPED ME, THAT'S WHAT! KIDNAPPED ME AND COVERED ME WITH GLUE AND FEATHERS!" Turkey injected.

"I found ourselves a turkey!" America declared proudly. "You clearly said, 'We still need Turkey', so I got him!"

Lithuania facepalmed. "I meant like the _bird_ turkey, not the nation!"

"But he is a bird! See, he's even got feathers!"

"THESE ARE FAKE!" Turkey shouted, writhing about on the floor. "AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE A BEAK!"

America perked up. "A beak! Right! I forgot!"

Turkey groaned.

* * *

The Thanksgiving feast was a fine, fine thing. Lit dramatically with candles, the mellow light revealed the apple and sweet potato pie, glistening appetizingly. Then there were the plates of vegetables that might actually taste good this time around, and the ruby red glitter of the cranberry sauce.

But the main course was the turkey. Lying awkwardly on a large, elaborately decorated plate, it was a big beast of a turkey, resplendent in red, yellow, green, and blue feathers. Its lemon-yellow beak practically glowed.

America had invited several people over for Thanksgiving. England, Canada, and Japan had been invited. Lithuania was definitely there, as he'd done most of the cooking for America while he was off getting the Turkey. Everyone else had just sort of shown up. Russia had appeared, and no one dared to tell him to leave.

"America," England said at one point, "what's wrong with your turkey? It looks a bit...fake."

At that, the turkey convulsed and let out a strangled squawk.

"It's fresh!" said America brightly, while everyone else recoiled. "Very fresh. I made it myself!"

"It's still alive!" protested France. "That's not a way to serve food!"

"I...think I'll pass," said Canada, giving it a weird look.

"That looks like Turkey!" said Prussia, poking the bright yellow beak with a

"Yeah, it is a turkey!" said America cheerily. "The one and only Turkey!"

Turkey squawked again. The stupid beak was muffling his voice. And now he was forced to eat this cardboard degradation and hope the paint wouldn't make him sick. "I hate you, America," he said in an almost clear voice.

"Be quiet!" hissed the blond in question. "People will figure you out!"

"Too late," said Germany wearily.

Japan sat, quietly munching the green beans.

* * *

It was a very happy Thanksgiving for everyone.

At least, everyone but the Turkey.

* * *

And Italy, because there was no pasta.

* * *

**Again, I say Happy Thanksgiving (and Hanukkah)!  
**

******I hope I don't insult anyone with this. No offense to Turkish people. I'm making a dumb joke here. I don't mean to compare you all with turkeys. I'm sure each and every one of you are fine people. :)**


End file.
